


Futility or Five Times Oliver Missed Elio and One Time He Called Him

by almostannette



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Canon-Compliant, Character Study, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, classic 5+1, oliver has lots of issues, proposal, there's lots of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 03:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13918641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almostannette/pseuds/almostannette
Summary: Letting go of someone isn't easy and, no matter how hard Oliver tries not to think of Elio and move on with his life, he just can't seem to forget him...





	Futility or Five Times Oliver Missed Elio and One Time He Called Him

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fic for Call Me By Your Name. It's only been a few days since I first saw the movie, but I'm in love and have a new OTP.
> 
> Writing for a new pairing in a new fandom is scary, but I hope I did a good job. I'm still trying to get a feeling for the character's, so this ended up being a little character study. I have more fic ideas, though, so hopefully, I'll write more fic for this pairing in the future.
> 
> Many thanks to [Binary_Sunset](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Binary_Sunset/pseuds/Binary_Sunset) for suggestions regarding the ending of the ficlet and also for providing the encouragement I needed to actually post this!

**1.**

As the train pulls out of the station, Oliver doesn’t look back.

The train rattles through the beautiful Italian countryside and Oliver doesn’t see any of it. His heart races as though he’s just run a marathon and his stomach churns the way it does when you realize you made a huge mistake.

Now he allows himself to look back. He can still see the station in the distance, but he’s already too far away to make out any details. Maybe his eyes are playing tricks on him, but he thinks he can see the outline of a lone figure, still standing on the station platform.

Oliver closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the window. “Elio,” he whispers under his breath. “Oliver,” he adds, after a few seconds.

  
  


**2.**

Oliver has dinner with his family. He wonders if his parents and siblings feel as tense and awkward as he does and if they are masking their discomfort, again, just like he does.

His father has had a couple of drinks too many and is releasing one of his tirades. Oliver doesn’t listen. He has heard his father voice the same old offensive sentiments for years. He knows them by heart.

He's gripped by a sudden wave of melancholy and finds himself missing the Perlman family with an intense, frightening ferocity. One Perlman in particular, of course, but he mustn’t think about Elio.

His hands are trembling so much he can barely hold the cutlery. He puts down his knife and fork, claiming he is no longer hungry.

His brother makes a comment about Oliver being spoiled by the Italian food. Oliver replies with a half-hearted joke but doesn't even listen to his own words.

“How was Italy?” his mother asks. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

Oliver swallows around the lump in his throat and smiles. He hopes it doesn't look as strained as it feels. “Wonderful,” he says and thinks of baths on hot summer days, dances at night, and the taste of apricot juice. Mostly, though, he thinks of Elio. “It was...wonderful.”

  
  


**3.**

In a perfect world, he should have been happy to see her. When she asks him whether he missed her while he was in Italy, Oliver says yes, he did.

He doesn't say that he hardly thought about her, or about home in general after the first few days with the Perlmans.

“Of course I missed you,” he says. “When you can’t be with the one you love, then you feel incomplete and it starts killing you after a while.”

Oliver speaks from experience, but he is not speaking about missing  _ her _ .

“Well, if you missed me so much, you could have written me, you know,” she says with slight disapproval in her voice.

Try as he might, Oliver doesn’t feel guilty.

“I’m sorry,” he lies. “I had so much work to do.”

Ever since he returned home, Oliver has written letters to Elio several times. He sat down with a pen and a piece of paper, but he could never seem to find the right words.

Everything he writes ends up being simultaneously too much and not enough. Not nearly enough to convey what he feels for Elio, but too frightening to ever consider saying any of it out loud.

Oliver never sent any of the letters.

That night, with his girlfriend asleep next to him in the bed they share, Oliver can’t sleep. Why does it feel so wrong to hold her, to make love to her? He hoped he could perhaps lose himself in her embrace, make himself forget about what happened between him and Elio and write it off as nothing but an impulsive, thoughtless summer fling. But every single touch, every kiss he shares with her just remind him of how much he misses Elio.

Beside him, his girlfriend snuggles closer to him in her sleep.

Oliver squeezes his eyes shut. She deserves better, he thinks, she deserves more than his lies. She deserves someone who really loves her, the way he loves…

Can he do this to her, he asks himself, can he keep up this charade until they reach a point at which their whole lives are built on lies?

 

 

**4.**

Oliver’s gone out at night, dancing at a club. Alone. He’s trying to dance his troubles away. He already had a couple of drinks and he welcomes the pleasant numbness when it sets in, likes how the alcohol makes everything feel manageable for the first time in weeks.

He can feel the thumping bass in his whole body. His heart is pounding fast, a combination of the physical exertion and the alcohol in his system. After a few songs, he hardly notices the other dancers anymore; he’s only dimly aware of how many people he’s sharing the dance floor with.

Oliver thinks that he could easily do this the whole night.

A new song comes on, as upbeat and cheerful as the previous ones, judging by the first few seconds and the excited cries of the other dancers. At first, Oliver cheers too, until he realizes where he’s heard the song before. In Italy, when he’d been trying to distract himself with Chiara.

It hadn’t worked, of course it hadn’t worked, not with  _ him  _ so close by.

Elio isn’t even on the same continent right now, but he can’t forget him, can’t stop thinking about him and it hurts.

Is Elio suffering in a similar fashion?

Frustrated with himself, Oliver pushes past the other dancers and flees the bar.  
  


 

**5.**

He’s determined to do this properly, for appearance’s sake at least. He bought the ring three days ago and if he doesn’t ask her now, he’ll never muster up the courage, or so he tells himself.

“In Italy, I found out what’s really important to me,” he hears himself say. “I figured out what I want, what would make me happy in life, but…,” he trails off, realizing that’s as close to a confession as he’ll ever come.

“But what?” she asks with a smile, half-shaking her head.

“I was too scared,” he says. “I guess.”

“Scared? You?” she laughs. “That’s surprising. I didn’t think you even knew what fear was.”

“When you care about someone that much, it’s not surprising,” he says and looks her deep in the eyes. Before, he’d always thought she had beautiful eyes, but now all he can think is how her eyes are so unlike Elio’s.

Still, if he only commits to this, to her, to the idea of marriage, he might forget how being with Elio had felt so different than anything else he’s known. He doesn’t know if it’s because he’d never been with a man before or if it’s because he never fell so hard for someone. Maybe it’s a combination of both. In the end, it doesn’t really matter, Oliver supposes.

What he had with Elio was exhilarating, but even under different circumstances, it wouldn’t have lasted more than a couple of weeks, a few months, at the very most. Elio is clever, he would have started to see right through him in no time and Elio wouldn’t have liked what he’d have discovered, Oliver is sure of that. After all, Oliver doesn’t even like himself, most days.

Proposing marriage to his girlfriend is the safe option. It’s reasonable. It’s what everyone expects of him, anyway.

Oliver drops down on one knee and presents her with the ring he bought.

Please say no, he thinks, while he asks her. Just say no so we can forget about this farce and pretend it never happened.

She says yes.

He puts the ring on her finger and hugs her close, pretending to be as happy as she is. He doesn’t think he could fake a convincing smile right now.

What would Elio say if he could see him right now?

  
  


**+1**

Oliver has been staring at the phone for nearly ten minutes. He knows the number by heart, all he has to do is pick up the receiver and dial it.

Elio probably got over him already, Oliver figures. He’s only seventeen. Maybe he even found someone new. If that were the case, he wouldn’t be jealous, on the contrary, he would be happy for Elio, or so he makes himself believe.

All he wants is to hear Elio’s voice again, to speak to him one last time. A symbolic goodbye, so he can let go and move on with his life, get married, have children and…he starts to feel sick.

Fully aware of the futility of his plan, Oliver reaches for the receiver. He dials the number and, as he lifts the receiver to his ear, he allows himself a moment of mourning for all that could have been, if he weren’t such a coward.

“Elio?”

 

**The End**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments give me life <3
> 
> Find me [@almost-annette](https://almost-annette.tumblr.com/)


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